


Evidence of Things Not Seen

by extasiswings



Series: Institutional Memory [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, President Evan "Buck" Buckley, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), White House AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 01:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: There’s only so long the President can vanish from a state dinner before people start to take notice. Eddie notices when Buck slips out of course—he feels like he always notices, is always aware of wherever Buck is in space, which would be reasonable if he was a secret service agent and not just one of a handful of military aides in the West Wing, but if nobody else knows it’s not a problem.Or at least, it’s nobody’s problem but his. And he’s always been good at compartmentalizing.[Or: Eddie's in love with the President.  But, just maybe, the President is also in love with him.]
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Series: Institutional Memory [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2216898
Comments: 13
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I said I wasn't going to write a White House AU, but then I couldn't stop thinking about it and said I wasn't going to write more than one part of a White House AU...and then I wrote a second. But I swear this is not going to be A Thing, letmetellyouaboutmyfeels and spinningincircles are just shameless enablers.

There’s only so long the President can vanish from a state dinner before people start to take notice. Eddie notices when Buck slips out of course—he feels like he always notices, is always aware of wherever Buck is in space, which would be reasonable if he was a secret service agent and not just one of a handful of military aides in the West Wing, but if nobody else knows it’s not a problem.

Or at least, it’s nobody’s problem but his. And he’s always been good at compartmentalizing.

But the more time passes without Buck’s return, the more Eddie can feel the energy in the room shift. He sees Maddie quietly wave over a secret service agent, a tight smile fixed on her lips, and when he sees the agent give a small shake of his head, he sets down his glass and makes a silent exit of his own.

It would be easy to turn his feet in the direction of the Oval, or even the residence. But something stops him, sending him on a different path.

His own office is dark, but the handle turns easily despite the fact that he knows he locked it when he changed into his dress uniform after normal business hours.

“You know, you really have to stop slipping your protective detail,” Eddie says as he shuts the door behind him.

Buck lifts his head from the couch shoved in the corner of the room and drags his hands over his face.

“It’s not like I’m going to get hurt _in_ the White House,” he replies.

“Your sister might disagree with that,” Eddie points out. “Or Athena. Or Bobby—”

“Yeah, I get it,” Buck interrupts. “I just…needed a minute. It was too loud, I couldn’t think, couldn’t—”

He exhales heavily and sits up as Eddie nudges at his legs to make room on the couch.

“Where’s Christopher tonight?” Buck asks instead of finishing the thought.

“With my sister Adriana,” Eddie admits. “He asked if I was going to dance tonight and I had to explain that not every event is like the inaugural balls.”

It makes Buck’s lips quirk up, so Eddie considers it a success.

“Shame, really,” Buck says quietly. “Waste of a dress uniform.”

“Says the man hiding in my office in a tux that probably costs more than I make in a month,” Eddie teases right back, although he doesn’t quite feel the lightness he tries to inject into his voice.

Buck catches his lower lip between his teeth—his eyes shine in the dark as he sways forward and rubs his thumb over one of Eddie’s buttons. He’s quiet for a moment as Eddie’s pulse ticks up, then says—

“I never really wanted this,” he admits. “I just wanted to be a firefighter, and then my leg got crushed under a ladder truck and I couldn’t anymore. And I thought maybe—maybe running for office somewhere would be a good thing, would let me help people even if not in the same way, but I never expected—it just happened that I was good at it and kept getting pushed for more and more and at some point I think I stopped asking myself what I really wanted—”

Buck shakes his head as he cuts himself off.

“Sorry. God, listen to me, I sound like an idiot.”

“You sound human,” Eddie corrects. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

The twist to Buck’s lips takes on a touch of bitterness.

“I don’t feel like I’m allowed to do that anymore,” he admits. “I’m not a person, I’m just…the office. I’m not supposed to need things…want things…”

Eddie’s voice is barely more than a dry rasp when he asks—

“Like what?”

Buck’s eyes flick down to Eddie’s mouth as his thumb traces the sharp crease of his collar. When he looks back up, their eyes meet, and Eddie flushes hot.

He reaches out and smoothes Buck’s lapel, dares to brush the edge of Buck’s throat with his thumb and gets a thrill when the other man shivers.

_You don’t have to be the office with me_ , he thinks, but can’t quite twist his tongue around the words. Or any words.

Except one.

“Buck—”

“Mr. President?” The knock comes at the door and Eddie’s close enough to feel Buck’s shaky exhale as he pulls away.

“Just a second,” Buck calls back before looking back to Eddie. “I suppose I should get back.”

“Probably,” Eddie admits.

Buck opens his mouth as if to say something else, only to close it and shake his head.

“Have a good night. Lieutenant Diaz.”

Eddie bites his tongue and leans back as Buck stands up.

“Good night, sir.”

He doesn’t go back to the dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a quiet day.

Now, Buck’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he can count on one hand the number of times his schedule has been so light throughout the first year of his presidency, so he can’t help checking it again and then a third time just to make sure. But it doesn’t change the longer he looks at it.

Okay. So, it’s a quiet, light day. That’s a good thing—it’s not like he can’t use the rest.

He’s just not sure why he can’t quite work the tension out of his shoulders, why he feels poised on the edge of a tightrope made of razor wire about to either fall or get sliced.

By noon, all of his scheduled meetings are finished and he’s even managed to catch up on some of the reports he’d been meaning to dig deeper into. He’s antsy and full of untethered energy and, finally, he closes the file he’s looking through and crosses the room to knock on the door connecting the Oval with the Chief of Staff’s office.

(After the last time he walked in without thinking and got an eyeful of his sister and Chim that made him want to bleach his brain, he always knocks.)

“Hey, Chim—I’m going to head back to the residence for the rest of the day—”

The main office door opens.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Mr. President,” Athena says, and it’s been enough time that Buck knows when the head of the secret service shows up personally and without warning it means nothing good. Right behind her, the aide to his National Security Advisor comes skidding to a halt, out of breath.

“You’re needed in the situation room, sir.”

Buck looks back at Athena.

“Michael—?”

(It may well be a conflict of interest that the Vice President’s ex-wife is responsible for making sure Buck stays alive, but then, Buck’s pretty sure there’s no less of one than the fact that his sister is dating his Chief of Staff so...)

“He’s being moved to a secure location,” she replies. “But yes, Bobby’s waiting in the sit room. I can fill you in on the way.”

Buck swears internally and runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay. What do we have?”

“Bomb threat and possible shooter at the Pentagon,” Athena says, and Buck’s heart stops, ice freezing his insides. Because that’s—

_“You know, some of us have actual work to do,” Eddie said the night before, the look in his eyes exasperated but fond in the dim light from the lamp on his desk._

_“You mean entertaining the leader of the free world isn’t in your job description, Lieutenant Diaz?” Buck had teased right back, reveling in the quirk of Eddie’s lips._

_“Yeah, well, you’re going to have to find someone else to entertain you tomorrow—I’ll be in meetings with the joint chiefs at the Pentagon all day. Should be thrilling stuff.”_

_“Maybe I’ll invent a national security emergency—get you out of it.”_

_Eddie laughed. “Please don’t, they’ll just reschedule. And then there will be paperwork.”_

—that’s where Eddie is.

“How the fuck does that happen?” Buck croaks out, feeling like he’s swallowed glass.

“We’re working out the exact details,” Athena replies. “But it’s fairly clear it was an inside job. Whoever it is killed one of the marines on duty and called in the bomb himself, we’re looking at the security feeds and card access records to narrow down a name.”

She finishes just as they step through the door of the situation room and Bobby looks up.

“Dennis Pierce,” he fills in. “He’s been there eight years, looks like he was identified as part of the investigation to see which employees might have ties to white supremacist groups. He hasn’t been fired yet because the investigation isn’t finished, but I guess he saw the writing on the wall.”

“And thought he would tender his resignation by, what? Blowing up the joint chiefs?” Buck can hear the edge in his voice, which means Bobby definitely can as well.

(They met on the campaign trail, when Buck started getting intelligence briefings that made him feel like he was drowning, in over his head. But Bobby never treated him like an idiot who didn’t know the first thing about national security, was always patient, willing to sit with him and explain. And by now, Buck’s pretty sure he would be lost without him. Without him and—)

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Bobby replies, his own voice carefully even. Steady. “We have a bomb squad on site and every armed guard in the building looking for this guy, not to mention that most of the people he’s likely to run into are combat-trained military.”

The phone on the desk rings and Bobby picks it up as the door opens and the heads of the FBI and CIA file in.

“Copy that,” Bobby says and hangs up, tapping a few keys on his keyboard to bring up blueprints on the main screen and highlighting a room on the fifth floor.

“Someone pressed one of the hidden panic buttons in conference room J,” he explains. “Bomb squad is on its way and we should be getting camera feeds—now.”

The feed flickers into the screen and steals Buck’s breath all over again, because there, on the screen, with his hands raised and facing down an older, grizzled white man with a gun in one hand and a trigger to the bomb vest strapped to his chest in the other—is Eddie.

“There’s no audio,” Buck points out as Eddie’s lips move too quickly for him to read anything clearly.

“There aren’t any speakers or mics in the room.”

Maybe not, but—over Pierce’s shoulder, Buck notices a phone on the wall.

“I want to talk to him,” he says. “Call the room.”

Bobby’s look is sharp when he turns to look at him.

“Sir, I really wouldn’t advise—”

“Call,” Buck repeats, his tone booking no argument.

Bobby’s lips press thin, but he picks up the phone, speaking quietly into the receiver while Buck doesn’t look away from the camera feed, his stomach twisting itself into knots as Pierce shakes his head violently in response to whatever Eddie is saying. Time seems to slow the longer he watches, even as Bobby passes him the phone.

“Extension 3596,” Bobby says quietly. And Buck dials.

He can’t see the phone ring on the feed, but he sees the effect—Pierce twitches, his head whipping around in surprise, and Eddie takes advantage of the distraction to move—

The feed cuts out.

The phone keeps ringing.

“What happened?” Buck demands. “What—we have to get it back, we have to—”

The line picks up.

“This is General O’Halloran, who am I speaking with?”

Buck swallows hard.

“General, this is the President. What’s your status?”

“Lieutenant Diaz neutralized the threat, sir. Passed him off to the bomb squad waiting outside. We’re all safe and sound.”

There’s something rising up in his throat, and Buck isn’t sure if it’s just a wave of overwhelming emotion or if it’s actually bile.

“Glad to hear it, General,” he chokes out.

He passes the phone back to Bobby and shoves back his chair then, not caring whether they need him for anything, just needing—needing—

Buck rips at the knot of his tie as he steps into the hallway, and only barely makes it through the door of the bathroom at the end of it before he throws up in the sink.

The door opens again a moment later, as he’s gripping the edge of the sink trying to get his adrenaline under control.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Athena says quietly. “Everyone’s fine. Especially him.”

Buck could almost laugh at that if he was in any sort of mood. Because he hasn’t even told Eddie—not technically—hasn’t ever done anything to truly cross a line, but apparently everyone knows anyway.

“I could have lost him...and I would have had to watch,” he says.

“But you didn’t.”

Buck rinses his mouth out and spits.

“Is Bobby pissed at me for walking out?”

Athena shrugs. “I doubt it. I can take you back to the residence now if you want—tell Bobby to finish up and debrief you later.”

Buck swallows again. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

He pauses as half an idea comes into his head, then adds—

“Hey, Athena? Do you think—”

Which is how he finds himself waiting in a car outside a condo in Virginia with an extra protective detail at nine that night as his regular agents knock on the door. A woman with dark hair opens the door, and Buck can see the way her eyebrows shoot up as she exchanges quick words with the agents before they step inside to conduct their sweep. A minute passes, then the agent at his side taps her earpiece.

“Clear. Got it,” she says, and that’s all Buck needs to get out of the car.

The same dark-haired woman is standing in the entryway, arms crossed, when he walks through the door. He stops in his tracks, suddenly nervous as her calculating gaze trails over him.

“Adriana?” He guesses, and she hums.

“A little warning would have been nice,” she says, but Buck thinks he catches a hint of a smile as she turns on her heel to go down the hallway off the kitchen to what he assumes is a bedroom. “Good night, Mr. President.”

Buck opens his mouth to say something, when Eddie himself appears at the top of the stairs, hair wet and clothes sticking to his skin like he’s just jumped out of the shower.

“Adriana, what the hell—” Eddie cuts off the moment his eyes land on Buck and she just laughs before she disappears down the hall.

“Hi,” Buck says quietly.

“Hey,” Eddie replies. There’s a bruise blossoming over his cheek and Buck’s fingers itch to touch it, or really, to touch _Eddie_ everywhere he can to remind him that he’s here, he’s alive, Buck didn’t lose—

Eddie clears his throat and makes his way the rest of the way down the stairs.

“You’re...in my house.”

Buck shifts his weight. “You almost died today.”

Eddie blows out a breath and rakes a hand through his wet hair.

“Guess you didn’t have to fake that national security emergency after all.”

“Guess not.”

Eddie’s gaze turns considering, his brow furrowing as an odd look crosses his face.

“So...I almost die...and that warrants you showing up in the middle of the night? Why?”

Buck wets his lips, feeling like he can barely hold Eddie’s eyes. His pulse is racing, blood rushing in his ears, and his voice is a mere rasp when he says—

“You know why.”

_You have to know _.__

__Eddie glances down at the floor, then over to the windows where the curtains are closed. Then he nods once._ _

__“Maybe. But...I think I need you to say it.”_ _

__Buck nearly throws his hands up. “Fuck, Eddie, because I love—”_ _

__He doesn’t finish the sentence because Eddie closes the distance and kisses the rest away, backing Buck against the closed front door. Buck nearly chokes on relief as his hand scramble to twist into Eddie’s damp t-shirt and pull him even closer._ _

__“I thought—” he gasps out when Eddie breaks the kiss in favor of pressing a trail of them down his neck— “I thought you were going to die and I wasn’t going to get to tell you.”_ _

__Eddie pauses his exploration, hands spasming on Buck’s hips._ _

__“Yeah,” Eddie breathes against his skin. “Yeah, me too.”_ _

__Buck threads his fingers through Eddie’s hair and tugs him back up to kiss him again._ _

__“Athena says she’ll kill me if I’m not back by midnight,” he admits._ _

__Eddie’s lips quirk as he curls a finger through one of Buck’s belt loops and tugs him towards the stairs._ _

__“Then we’re swimming in time.”_ _

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Constituency of One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30123264) by [extasiswings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings)




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